The Little Red Birds
by neznam
Summary: All you want is to not remember anymore. You want to feel water run over your body and to have fresh air hit your face once more. Contains mental and physical abuse, human torture, violence and insanity. Implied Hermione/Draco. Oneshot.


**Title: **The Little Red Birds  
**Summary: **All you want is to not remember anymore. You want to feel water run over your body and to have fresh air hit your face once more.  
**arnings: **Mental and physical abuse, human torture, gore(y)?, insanity.  
**Words: **Around 3000, I think.  
**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter belongs to its respective owners, this was purely written for fun and not written for profit.

**A/N: **This kind of implies past Hermione/Draco if you squint, and Hermione/?. But I won't name it because I kinda don't want you to know who it is until you reach that point in the story. This is a oneshot I wrote a year ago and only completed today, so the style of writing may be different halfway through. Enjoy :)

* * *

You wait motionless, listening to the echoing footsteps that proceed down the hall on the other side of the room, getting louder each time.

You don't bother to even move.

You know what is coming, as it is expected. You don't know which one is coming today, but you have a nagging suspicion it's _him. _But you never know for sure, as you see they like to take it in turns.

You don't know who they are, but you're thinking that this isn't the usual ritual other people go through.

Which makes you think even harder, whether it actually does happen, and you are one of the unlucky ones that play victim to the vile acts?

But too much thinking starts to make your brain hurt, especially since the blood that is drying on your body is the blood shed from you.

Your thoughts are interrupted as soon as the door creaks open, slowly, which you are not used to.

You remember they usually throw the door open, slamming it against the stone wall.

You wait anxiously as it is pushed, ever so slowly, until the figure of a tall man emerges, his face shadowed as the light hits his back.

There is no light in your room, only a faint one that seeps from under the door.

You put your head down, refusing to meet his gaze.

You feel the stretch of your skin at your neck, coming to the conclusion that the dried up blood was tugging at your skin.

You haven't moved a lot in what feels like days, every movement causing a dull ache in your bones. It feels painful to breathe.

But you try to ignore it. You need to ignore it.

You hear him snigger at you, as he realizes that you are, in fact, in pain.

It seems to bring him joy.

He closes the door behind him, and as per usual, lights up the room with a spell from his wand. Something you don't have.

You have nothing in here.

The only thing in here apart from you and a few spiders are the chains restricting you to the wall, making you unable to move.

From past experience, you see he doesn't really like the spiders.

For a few moments, the other person in the room is still, and then, judging by the closeness of their footsteps, they proceed to come closer.

You hear the footsteps come to a stop a bit away from you, and you turn to see his position.

As soon as you turn your head, you realize he is staring at you, without breaking contact from your eyes as soon as you meet his.

Turning your head back to the side, you keep your eyes fixed on a spider weaving its web in the corner of the room.

You start to get nervous and sweat beads across your eyebrows.

There was no movement.

You wait now, nervously, for the next movement.

Not knowing what was going to happen was the worst, in your opinion.

Staring at the corner in the room, you hear the sound of footsteps again, this time stopping right next to you.

You make sure not to flinch.

You shudder involuntarily at the thought of what he might do to you today, at which he sniggers.

Then follows silence.

He commands you to look at him, and you obey, reluctantly.

You stare into his eyes, trying to put a blank mask as to contain your emotions.

It only makes him laugh right in your face.

Lifting his wand, he points it to you while an evil grin spreads across his face.

You have wondered before what kind of man he was before, what kind of man he is when he isn't in here with you.

But you don't remember.

All you remember is _her, her _voice, _her _eyes.

She goes with him into the room next to yours and you can see them through the wall, but because of the Disillusionment and Silencing charm he has placed on you, she has no idea that you can see every thing they do. You have no choice but to watch.

And they did things.

Things that you find disgusting.

You only find them disgusting because she is unaware there is an audience.

Disgusting that he makes you watch them.

But you're pulled out of your thoughts as soon as he mutters a word inaudible to you, and the unmistakable sound of bones cracking under your skin makes pain sear through every inch of your body.

You don't attempt to muffle your yells as blazing red fire flashes through your eyes every time you open your eyes.

What you feel is unbearable.

Every single bone in your body - apart from the neck and up - has been broken, splintering in all directions and piercing your flesh from the inside.

Agonizing sobs escape your throat and your vision is blurry. Hot tears are running down your cheeks and your nose is runny.

He watches with some sick amusement, satisfied with the pain he has caused.

Cold.

Indifferent.

Instantly, the pain is removed and your body appears to be back to normal. It all happens within a second.

He then speaks to you.

It's always the same words.

_'Did that feel good?'_ he asks.

You don't reply, knowing that back talking will only lead you to another round.

_He would go for another round no matter what, wouldn't he?_ You think, staring into his eyes dazedly.

But apparently, today was your lucky day.

She walked in.

Your watch as her smile falls, as she takes in the sight before her.

She finally sees you.

Finally.

You make your way towards her, only to be restricted by the chains that hold you to the wall.

Your captor looks down at you with disgust and speaks to you in a dangerous tone, punching you very hard in the stomach.

She screams his name and runs towards you, only to be knocked back down onto the floor, and then there is no more movement from her.

You cough up blood, spilling it onto the floor.

On the brink of unconsciousness yourself, the last thing you hear is 'Obliviate.' He then looks down at you.

'Bastard,' you mutter, before falling into the world of darkness. Guess your lucky day was turning into one of the worst.

X-X

You open your eyes, squinting, as the sudden brightness in the room has you uncomfortable.

It's usually dark, isn't it?

You aren't sure whether your memory is playing up with you, or your eyes have messed up.

You hope it's neither.

You look around the room, taking everything in.

Every minor detail.

The door opens with a loud bang.

You look up at the source of the noise, not being used to having another – what you think is most likely a victim – person besides the captors in the room. You see a young man, but you are not sure whether he is the same age as you. You wonder how long you have been in here. You don't really remember, and your brain goes fuzzy trying. He has short, dark brown hair and a slightly chubby face. The boy has quite a strong build, better than your pathetic lanky body. You feel as if you might know this person, but it's a distant memory, fuzzy around the edges. But you know you have seen him before, you were maybe friends with him once, but you can't be certain.

You feel frustrated, and especially angry at your captor. You wonder what he would have done to make you this way. A memory charm, maybe? It seems that he has played with your memory, only removing the things he wanted to, since you remember being a wizard and learning magic. But you don't remember anybody, not friends or foes.

As the other boy struggles, he seems to pay no attention to you, not even realizing another occupant in the room. He starts screaming at him, asking him things such as _Why are you doing this? It's me! _You see the captor laugh at him, his face close to the brown haired boys. He's taunting him. The other victim's mouth was wide open, you knew he was screaming. But no sound emerged. Nothing but silence followed, apart from the howling laughter of the man who came to constantly torture you. He ends up restraining him in the chains attached to the wall, too. He turns slowly and looks at you, raising his eyebrows. You look away from him, disgusted but otherwise trying to show no emotion as you refocus your gaze on the struggling man that had met the same fate as you.

His eyes roam the room, trying to locate the direction of which their captor had been looking at, while said person turned back to look at him. When his eyes finally set on you, his eyes grow wide in shock as he takes you in. Now your suspicion is corrected; you do know him, and he knows you. Or, you look horrendous. You're not really sure, as you haven't seen yourself in the mirror for what you think might be months.

The person holding you both prisoner takes the silencing charm off of the other man, his voice growing stronger and stronger as the charm lifts completely. You can make out some of the words, as you have lost some of your hearing while being here.

He mumbles uncontrollably, asking you how you got here. You nod or shake your head at the questions that require them, but otherwise do not speak. Your throat is dry and it hurts to even swallow. At this, your keeper is sniggering again, watching the other male with an amused expression.

He tells you both to be quiet; the other prisoner disobeys. You know that that is a mistake, and you shake your head violently at the other prisoner, but it's too late. With a violent slash, your captor casts a non verbal spell at the other man, causing him to scream. You shudder and turn away after seeing the ugly slash that had cut into the chained mans cheek, instantly streaming with blood. You hear him trying to muffle a scream, and your keeper is threatening him, telling him to never disobey him. You already know this.

He spits on the other prisoner, looks at you, and leaves the room.

You look at a corner where a spider is trapping a fly. You feel the other boys stare on you but you don't want to look at him.

You hear footsteps come back down the hallway again. You shut your eyes and feel on the verge of sobbing.

Another set of footsteps you didn't hear before enter the room as well, ones you aren't used to hearing. They are more out of rhythm then the first ones, seeming to be getting dragged along.

You hear shuffling, and then a sound you know that of somebody being slammed against the wall. There comes the sound of chains and hopeless tugging, as if somebody is trying to escape the hold of them, but you well know it is useless. You tried for quite a while.

You look at your captor. He seems to be well groomed, strutting around with expensive cloaks and his hair washed and groomed. His hair, if possible, shines. You wonder how long it's been since water even touched your body. You long for the feel of the gentle caress of warm water running over your body.

You long for the feel of fresh air running through your nostrils and hitting your face.

It's useless, you try to tell her. Stop struggling.

But you can't even speak. It feels as if your mouth has been sealed shut and attempting to separate your lips causes the flesh to tear. You don't bother.

The other male prisoner is now frantic and yelling and kicking, but it's worthless. You've tried to escape, too.

The girl seems to be clean enough, not as filthy as you and the other prisoner, for sure.

It's like watching someone break down right in front of your eyes. As if all the happiness in their lives was cruelly pulled away.

Maybe you just watched it happen to her.

You hope it hasn't happened to you yet.

Your captor ends up silencing both of them. But they keep struggling, so he hits them both with a spell each and then they stop moving.

You wonder if they're dead.

Why couldn't he kill you, too?

He turns to look at you. Pure disgust fills his eyes and he steps closer to you. After a moment's hesitation, a smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

He puts a spell on you too.

You wish. You wish.

But no green light comes.

Instead, the worst thing you could possibly think of happens instead. He wants you to suffer the most.

He returns your memories.

A cry rips itself out from your throat before you can stop it, but you don't even care anymore.

You don't care. Whatever dignity you had is gone.

Hermione. Hermione.

Your wrists are starting to hurt.

Hermione.

You can't even recognize your own screams. Your lips feel like sandpaper. Your blood is dripping onto the floor, screams are ripping out of your throat, your jaw is sore and your fingernails are ripping the flesh of your palms.

Your throat is becoming hoarse, and you can hear him chuckling in the background. You feel as if you are physically hurt, aswell.

You finally go limp with exhaustion and hopelessness.

You think you may know what it is like for someone to experience another person completely breaking down.

You look up to the filthy bastard who put you in here. He's staring at you. You look over to Hermione and Neville, and wonder how such a person as Ronald Weasley could do this to them.

Not Hermione. Why would Ronald Weasley do this?

_"You're a bastard, Draco Malfoy. Fuck you. This is you're fault. You see this? I had to fucking do this because of you," _he tells you.

Your brain feels as if it's expanding in your head, as if it's pouring out of every hole in your head. Your chest is tight, you can't even inhale properly, and you can't control any damn tears.

His face is impassive, and he leaves the room.

You feel hopeless.

Worthless.

Your wrists are hurting. It feels as if something is grating against your bones.

Your brain is snapping. You can hear little strings tearing.

And then the birds start to sing.

X-X

You can see yourself in the reflection of the window. Your hair shines as bright as ever, silver in the sunlight. Your skin is pale, something the doctors are very worried about.

The little red birds outside are staring at you. They're all lined up on the ledge, and one by one, they fly a little distance away, turn back, and crash right into the window, go back, and do it again.

You watch them for a little while.

You see two people floating in mid air. They disappear moments later.

The doctor comes in to tell you that you need to be transferred into a special kind of hospital.

The girl and the boy come and tell you its okay and that's just what you need. You listen to them and tell the doctor you're excited to go.

You're unsure of his expression, and turn back to watch the little red birds from before.

X-X

"Mr. Malfoy, you will be moving in a few short weeks. You're going to be going to another hospital. A special kind of hospital, just for you. There is no option than for you to go, Mr. Malfoy. They treat people with mentality issues just like yours," I tell him. He stares at the window, his face sad.

He looks to both sides of his bed, then, and I frown. He knows they're not real, but he still treats them as if they are.

"Mr. Malfoy, to be clear, do Neville and Herm-"

"I'm very excited to go, Doctor," he quickly cuts me off. He never likes the doctors or nurses directly asking about Neville or Hermione. I highly doubt he even knows exactly what place he's going to.

He looks outside the window again, focusing on the same spot he was before.

"What do you see when you look out the window, Mr. Malfoy?" I ask. All my patients have strangely unique minds, but most, like Mr. Malfoy, have lost the ability to properly communicate with and understand another human being. Nobody understands the patience required to speak with these kinds of people. They are in their own world, but not by choice.

By God, they didn't have a choice.

"The little red birds. You have very tough windows, Doctor. These birds are crazy," he says. The irony of the situation made me want to laugh.

"Let me re-bandage your wrists, Draco." He hands me his arms, and one at a time, I apply new bandages on them. He continues to stare out the window, and he tells me another story.

"He put spells on them before he put one on me, Doctor. He made me watch, too. His wand was pointing right at me. That was the worst part of the whole thing. I didn't want them to come back. I'd rather not know," he rambles. I feel quite sorry for Mr. Malfoy.

To this day, the study of schizophrenia is something I try to work on the most. Just so I can help people like Draco Malfoy, so he may one day come to the realization there are no such things as spells and wands or Neville and Hermione.

But with time, he may recover.

"He's not here anymore, Draco, is he?"

He shakes his head, and tells me he's been gone for a long time. With progress like this, Hermione and Neville may leave too, which is just what Mr. Malfoy needs.

I look at the window. There are no birds in sight.

* * *

**A/N: **So there. Draco Malfoy becomes insane. To be clear, the doctor says its schizophrenia because he is a muggle doctor and has no idea about wizards. Draco and Hermione were in a relationship before any of this happened, and Ron becomes jealous. After the war, Ron loses his mind and makes anyone who did him bad suffer. If there's anything wrong, or you notice something you wish to correct, leave me a review and I'll take everything into consideration. If you're reading this, thanks for getting this far :)


End file.
